


An Avengers Christmas

by GothicLolita009



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, Christmas, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:12:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicLolita009/pseuds/GothicLolita009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas with the Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ding Dong, Caroling Bells

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All Avengers-related characters, locales, etc. are creative property of Marvel, et al. Any and all references to the Toasterverse, headcannons or otherwise, are the sole creative property of SciFiGrl47. Both are being used without permission and without intent to copyright any material herein.
> 
> A/N: So here is the idea. I will be posting one chapter per week, probably usually on a Sunday, in the weeks leading up to Christmas. Each chapter from here on until the final chapter will focus on a particular Avenger. The last chapter will be posted on Christmas Day.

Steve Rogers was—happy. 

Well, not that he wasn't always happy, but he was particularly happy on this particular day. Which happened to be a Thursday. The week after Thanksgiving, and he was peeking through old boxes and bags in disused storage in the Tower. 

“Jarvis,” he finally asked, “where are all the decorations for Christmas?” 

“I believe, Captain Rogers, the staff have commandeered the majority of the holiday decorations for the lobby and the lower floors of the Tower.” 

“Well that isn't fair,” mumbled Steve, displeasure crossing his face, “d'you suppose we could order some things for up here? It is Christmas, after all.” 

“Certainly. Do you have any particular preference?” 

Steve considered the question. It would be his first Christmas in the Tower, with his new family. And he had a sneaking suspicion that the majority of the other members of his team had no idea what would be considered acceptable for Christmas. 

Some of his fondest memories were of Christmas. No matter what, Steve's parents always made sure there was a tree, and a few gifts under the tree, and a wonderful meal. Steve would help as much as he could. But what he loved most about the holiday season was the sense of family. Of togetherness. It was something that he missed a lot. 

“Well—I suppose some lights,” he said to Jarvis, “and tinsel...and, hm...do you think Tony would mind if we got a real Christmas tree? Not one of those fake ones, but a real one?” 

“I cannot say, Captain. Sir has never been much enthused about Christmas. At least, not to my knowledge.” 

This was something for Steve to consider. He had a few guesses as to why, but had always imagined that Christmas with the Starks had always been, at least for once, a happy occasion. One time out of the year when Tony, his parents, and whatever staff they had could come together and experience love and joy and all those things that were so very very foreign to him. 

“He's in the workshop, right, Jarvis?”

“You are very astute, Captain Rogers. Sir is in the workshop, as per usual.” 

“Thanks, Jarvis.” 

**  
“Right. Dummy, go and help Butterfingers with fabricati—I know, I know that's not what you want to do, but at the moment, I do not want a smoothie, and I've got You working on other things. Go. Yes. Go—now.” 

With a whine of servos going slack, Dummy took the wrench Tony held out and petulantly went to work. 

“Honestly, you're of no benefit whatever, Dummy, nope not—oh, Steve, hey! Jarvis, drop the music please.” 

AC/DC toned down, and Steve came up to Tony at his workbench, looking expectant and a little nervous. Neither did much to prevent his sweet, shy smile, and Tony just grinned back at him. 

“What's up, Cap?” asked Tony as he put aside whatever work he was doing to focus on Steve. And it wasn't that hard; Steve was kind of hard not to notice. Even in those khakis and that plaid shirt. 

“Tony, I know that—well, you may not like Christmas, but...can we decorate up here? I mean, us? The whole team?” 

For a moment, Tony stood there, not quite comprehending what was going on. It was as if a bit of code had been messed up on the way from his ears to his brain. He quickly turned back to the schematics in front of him, and considered the relays, the wiring, whatever else. Anything else. 

“Sure, Cap...go nuts, you know my AMEX number,” said Tony with a grin. 

“Tony—I'd like you to help too.” 

Tony kept his focus on the screen as he continued to flip through the lines and numbers and focused on them. Anything to not have to look at Steve's downcast face. 

“Tony, it's Christmas,” Steve said, almost pitching on a whine, “please?” 

And once again, Tony had to stop what he was doing to comprehend. He looked up at Steve, whose face had fallen, but was still hopeful. Expectant. 

And damn, it was hard to deny Steve Rogers just about anything when he looked at him like that. He felt himself beginning to weaken, his Scrooge-like heart melting under Steve's glossy blue eyes. Turning back to his work, he had to resist the urge to say, “Bah! Humbug.” 

“No,” was what came out. 

“Tony...please. We're a team. And I could always call a team meeting. I think you'd be outvoted.” 

“Steve--” Tony began, and made the mistake of looking into Steve's hurt face. The pang he felt in the vicinity of his arc reactor, he decided, was so not worth it. 

“Fine,” he said on a sigh, shaking his head, “let's decorate. All of us.”

That earned Tony a side-hug for his trouble and a happy grin from Captain America. 

“Thank you, Tony,” he said, and Tony wrapped one arm around Steve, knowing he was well and truly screwed. 

**  
“Right,” began Steve, “Thor...I'd like you to hang the stuff up high...help the girls. Bruce, you too. Phil...you and Clint team up and work on the rec. room. Tony—you're in charge of the lights. Get Jarvis to help. I'll be going around. Right...let's do this, Team!” 

Picking up what could only be classified as a “Mystery Box of Doom” Clint set off with it to his quarters to secret it away for an appropriate time. Natasha and Pepper set to with the greenery, and began trimming the banisters and mantels. Bruce followed with accenting, humming as he did so. Coulson opted to decorate first Calcifer the toaster (a sprig of holly) and then Sophie the breadmaker (tinsel) before stringing popcorn for the rec room's mantel. It took about twenty minutes of Clint attempting to worm his way into everyone else's work before Coulson wordlessly came out of the rec. room to fetch the wayward marksman. 

And Tony was working like a madman with lights and wiring. He had an unholy grin plastered on his face as he lit up the worded sign. 

MERRY STARKMAS

Steve, while trying not to burst out laughing, said, “No, Tony. You know what it should say."

“But Steve,” he half-whined, “it's--”

“No, Tony,” he said, his voice gentle, but with a slight note of steel in it. 

“Okay—then can I--”

“And no—you cannot do a lighting board with me wearing a santa hat.”

“You take all the fun out of this, Rogers, I swear you do,” muttered Tony, who went back to stringing lights and setting timers. 

Later that afternoon, the large and beautiful Christmas tree that Steve had arranged for arrived. The entire team finished bedecking the Tower, and went to work on the tree. At the very top, going on last, was the stylized A that had become the Avengers symbol. Provided by Tony and his lights, everyone agreed that it was the perfect topper for this tree. 

The warm Christmas lights, the wreath in the window, and the light and noise of the entire team gathered around the tree for the lighting. Tony was given the honors, and the looks on the faces of the team were worth it, they really were. He had to admit, they had done a pretty fantastic job. 

 

Silver, red and blue tinsel lined the trees, along with a host of beautiful multi-colored lights. Tiny glass bells, silver wreaths, and brightly colored bulbs all meshed together in the minds of each team member to remind them of the season. Someone, and it was probably Pepper, had arranged for tiny representations of each Avenger to have their own special place on the tree. Tony of course, had insisted his be on top, to which Steve agreed with a sigh. 

Everyone couldn't help but stare at the tree, and smile. 

“Right,” said Tony before things could get too awkward and people started hugging and singing carols, “um...it's holiday time.” 

“Yup,” said Steve as he wrapped an arm around him, “it sure is.” 

And in that moment, in the light of the tree and the lights around the room, seeing Steve's nostalgic but happy smile made Tony want to cry. After all, this was mostly for him. Something for him to cling to, a bit of normalcy. 

He just hoped the super villains of the world didn't decide on now to attack the Tower.


	2. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve needs help choosing an ideal gift.

Sitting at the kitchen table the next morning, Steve Rogers sipped at his coffee, considering his options and trying not to panic. 

He stared at the phone in his hand, debating which person to call. 

Any of the team was out of the question. Clint would most likely find a hundred and one ways to make this sound worse than it was. Natasha was a safer bet, or Coulson, but those were both indirect lines to Clint, who was always nesting near them in some way or another. Bruce or Thor might be a safe choice, but they were as unfamiliar with this as himself. He could ask Jarvis, but that could in some way backfire too. 

His choices were narrowed down to Rhodey or Pepper. Pepper it was. 

“Hello? Steve?”

“Yeah. Hello, Pepper. How are you doing?”

“Just fine, thanks for asking. Everything all right back at the Tower?”

“Uh—yeah, sure. Everything's fine. Really,” he replied, hoping he sounded less uncertain about that. The last thing he needed was Pepper getting worried. 

“Steve, are you sure?”

“Yeah. Really, Pepper, everything is fine. Tony is fine. We're all fine; apparently supervillians take holidays too. At least for the moment. Everyone and everything is good. I called because—well--I need your help.”

There was a moment of silence, and Steve could hear Pepper taking a seat, giving Steve her full attention. 

“When my old boss' boyfriend calls and says he needs something, and knowing who my old boss is, it's something important. I'm all ears, Steve. Lay it on me.”

Steve hesitated, unsure of how to even begin. It was strange and awkward on so very many levels, this was. And he was sure this was not something that was entirely applicable to his life, but at the moment, it felt like it was. And his brain was scrambling to think of a way to make this less awkward, when Pepper's voice cut through the silence. 

“Steve, I'm still here. What is it you need?” 

“I need to figure out a Christmas present for Tony,” he said, the words staccato and fast and, had she even comprehended what he'd said? 

“Steve? I caught the words, “Christmas,” and, “Tony,” out of all that. So what I'm assuming is that you need help figuring out a Christmas present for Tony?” 

“Yes,” he said, and the response was immediate, grateful that Pepper had, in fact, been able to deduce and decipher what it is he needed to say. He had to remember to get Pepper something especially nice. 

“Well, Steve,” said Pepper, “given that Tony can have anything he wants, and with relative ease, you might have a hard time finding something.” 

“I want to give him something really special, Pepper. Really special.”

“Hm,” was the response, a considering noise, “I think I help with that.” 

And a tension Steve didn't realize that had been in him bled out, and he smiled in relief. 

“I really don't know what I would do without you sometimes, Pepper,” he said, the smile evident his voice, “you're very good to us all.”

“Well—you look after Tony when I can't, so it's fair,” she replied, “let me make a couple of phone calls, and get back to you later today. Okay?”

“Great. Thanks, Pepper,” said Steve. 

“Give my loathing to the board!” shouted Tony from the doorway to the kitchen as Steve ended the call, making his lover jump. Steve gave a little squeak, and had a momentary bout of panic. Oh dear. How much of that did Tony hear? 

“Pepper doing okay?” asked Tony, perching on the kitchen counter. 

“Yeah, uh...yeah. Just the weekly call, you know.”

“Uh-huh,” said Tony, poking the coffee maker, which came alive at once while Calcifer rolled away from him as much as the plug would allow. “You have a very guilty look on your face, Captain Sneakypants. Why. Are you calling Pepper?” 

“Just to check on her...update her,” said Steve, his voice calm and steady while the smell of coffee filled the kitchen, “you know I'm the one that ends up doing it anyway, Tony.” 

“This is true—in that I am absorbed in being a genius,” he agreed, pouring himself a cup. He smiled around the mug, inhaling the scent of his favorite Kona blend. 

“You really should try to talk to her yourself, Tony. Let her know you're still breathing yourself,” shot back Steve with a smile. 

“That's what I have you for.” 

“And other things.”

“Yeah—that too. Just wanted to come up and, you know, be social for a bit.”

“What—no dangerous things going on the lab?”

“Captain Rogers, you should know by now that Sir always has something perpetually dangerous going on in his workshop,” said Jarvis, his voice lilting with amusement, “the levels of danger depend on his caffeine intake.” 

Steve had to choke back a laugh, while Tony pretended to be indignant. 

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” shot back Tony, “the specs almost done, Jarv?”

“Yes, Sir. The numbers are nearly complete, as is the machining. I recommend returning to the workshop in the next fifteen minutes, before Dummy has a chance to sabotage the fabrication unit's work.” 

“Roger that, bud,” said Tony, scooting closer to Steve, who was drawn to him like a moth to flame. Tony's arm slipped around Steve's shoulders, and his golden head came to rest against Tony's side. He purred a little as Tony's fingers moved through his hair, and he nuzzled Tony's side. 

“You are incorrigible,” muttered Steve against the fabric of Tony's filthy band shirt, “but I'm glad you came up.”

“Yeah...Jarvis told me you were up here,” said Tony, “thought I'd come up here and make coffee. Excuse to say hey.” And his voice was warm and thoughtful. 

“That's good, Tony. Make one to stay?”

“Sorry, Steve...but Jarvis is right. The last thing I need is Dummy screwing up the fabrication units.” He gave Steve a quick kiss and reluctantly hopped off the counter. “I'll be back up for dinner, okay?” 

And he trounced back down to the workshop. Steve watched him go. 

Two hours later, Steve's phone rang again. And a week later, he was in a small city college, in an art room that had been laid aside for his use. Pepper had arranged for it, and, knowing Steve's love of art, also an easel. Steve was armed with pastels, acrylic paint, and the hands of an artist to help when he needed it. 

Somehow, he came up with the perfect gift for Tony.


	3. Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit longer to post!

“Seriously, dude,” Clint Barton said as he propped his booted feet on the kitchen table, “just propose already.” 

“I wish nothing more than to make Jane my bride,” said Thor, one side of his mouth rising as he thought of the prospect, “however, I question the wisdom of proposing it to her now, at this time.” 

“Seriously, big guy? Seriously? You two are completely gone over each other. She is basically done with her work down there...and SHIELD always has a place for smart people like her. Hell, I think she's already working for them. In fact, I know she is. No point in waiting any longer.” 

The two of them sat together, mugs of coffee in their hands as New York City came to life below them. They had been in the gym for about an hour, working out, and then ending their separate sessions with a fifteen minute sparring match. Thor always won, but Clint always tried to give him a run for his money. And now, it was coffee time, and for once the kitchen was free of anyone else. 

And then, the Norse deity had turned to Clint, and with a very uncertain note in his tone, had asked him about the Midgardian holiday which was fast approaching. Christmas was not an entirely foreign concept to him, but the intricacies and details and trappings, and the gifts especially, was something that Thor needed explained to him. 

Choosing to do him a solid, Clint had explained some things to him. The hanging of decorations, tree-trimming parties and baking. Especially the baking; it was something Clint looked forward to very much. 

The gifting of presents. Which had then led to Thor asking what might be a suitable gift for Jane. Pepper had called down to their New Mexico friends, and the group had most readily agreed to join the rest of the Avengers in New York for the holiday. Erik Selvig would bring his special blend of schnapps, Jane would bring the gifts, and Darcy would, “be gracing the Tower with her immaculate presence, and by the way, Clint babycakes, you owe me a dance.” 

“What's going on here?” asked Pepper, as she came into the kitchen and looked around for the tea, “and Clint, feet off the table please. Honestly, have you no manners?”

“Sorry, ma'am,” said Clint, smiling sheepishly as he set his feet back on the floor. 

“The hawk-eyed one and I were discussing a suitable gift for the upcoming holiday for my Lady Jane,” explained Thor, mimicking Clint's sheepish smile. 

“I told 'im he should just get it over with and ask for her hand in mawwiage,” said Clint with an unrepentant grin, “but he's dragging his ass about it. He should just go ahead and marry her.” 

“Well, easy for you to say, Clint. You're not an Asgardian prince,” shot back Pepper with am amused look. 

“Aye—and the Son of Coul would make a fine addition to any royal family,” Thor agreed with a nod. 

“Yeah...um...thanks,” said Clint, deadpan. 

“Come on, Thor,” said Pepper, “Tony's AMEX card and I are available today. We'll go to Tiffany's and get something fantastic for Jane. I'll help you pick.” 

“I am most grateful,” said Thor, “however, I am able to purchase the item. The Man of Iron explained that SHIELD issues...debit cards? I have acquired one.” 

And he reached into a pocket, and pulled out a leather wallet. Inside was his SHIELD ID, and one other card which was clearly labeled DO NOT DESTROY. BE CAREFUL in what looked to be Tony's hand. 

“Great,” said Pepper, “I'll call Happy, and we'll be going in a little bit. I'll still have Tony's AMEX card though. He owes me for the last board meeting where he thought it would amusing to call them, “incompetent asshats,” because they had the nerve to question the stability of his circuitry.” 

“Certainly, fair Pepper. Shall we go?” 

And it always made Pepper smile, unconsciously or unconsciously, when Thor was a gentleman. Unlike the rest of this group. Actually, just Tony. And Tony was, in fact, Tony. 

“Fine, see if I care if she thinks some stupid little trinket from Tiffany's is going to be the best Christmas gift ever,” groused Clint with a pout. 

“Really, Clint? I don't think you have much room to talk. Unless, you've gotten your Christmas shopping done already?” asked Pepper sweetly as she took Thor's offered arm, and left with him. 

Given that only he was there, Clint was able to mutter to himself obscenely and admit that she had a very valid point. 

It looked as if the ladies who worked at the shop were going to come to blows over which one of them got to take the beautiful, exceptionally hot piece of masculinity that just walked in with Pepper Potts. After a few moments, a trim dark-haired girl who had not bothered to attempt to squabble with her co-workers was coming up to Thor and Pepper, inquiring how she might be of assistance. 

Twenty minutes later, after going through pendants, bracelets, and every other piece of jewelry known to woman-kind, Thor and Pepper shared a look. Everything was gorgeous, and absolutely beautiful, but Thor himself seemed to insist that something was missing...that the gift was simply not right.

“My apologies,” he said, “I did not believe that selecting a gift would be this difficult.” 

“Perhaps,” said the clerk, the smile never leaving her face, “we could look at a ring?” 

“I have always wished to make Lady Jane my bride...” 

“Wonderful. We have a beautiful selection of engagement rings. Maybe now is the right time to ask her.

An hour later, the beautiful diamond engagement ring had been purchased. The tiny diamonds were set into platinum, revolving around a single princess-cut diamond of flawless beauty. Much like Jane herself, to Thor. 

 

Pepper agreed to store the ring for safe keeping in the safe that Tony used. It was pretty much impervious to any sort of tampering, and it was guaranteed to keep the ring safe until it was time for the big moment. 

“I thank you, sweet lady,” said Thor as Pepper excused herself to return to work. Clint was waiting in the kitchen.

“And?” 

“It was a—difficult decision. However, I took your advice. I will speak to my father and ask if I might marry Jane at long last. I purchased a ring.” 

“Well, fuck!” was all Clint had to say about that.


	4. Clint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint takes the LIRR out to the Mall, looking for the perfect Christmas gifts for Coulson and Romanov. 
> 
> A/N: Sorry! Sorry! I've begun a new job, and the place keeps me hopping. I'll have Natasha's chapter up this week. At least, I will do my best to!

Clint Barton was just a little pissy. 

After being somewhat shown up by Pepper, he had also in fact been reminded that he had yet to do any of his Christmas shopping. At all. 

And so it was he found himself in the Mall on Long Island. He wandered through the stores...looking at designer watches, expensive cologne, and kiosks which sold high-end electronics that would make Tony scoff and retreat into his workshop for a week or more to develop newer and better versions. 

And yet, none of the things he had seen seemed to be a proper gift for Phil. He wandered the corridors, drifted into and out of stores, considering each thing that was presented. Natasha was easier, by virtue of the fact women had more options available to them in the way of stuff. He had already purchased a beautiful pair of red and black stiletto heels for her and had every plan to have Tony tech them out in some way. Something to protect and help her in her work. 

He stopped at the food court, picking up a slice of pizza and a Coke while he considered the Mall directory. An unholy grin crossed his face as he came upon the absolutely perfect store. 

The shop was small, off a short corridor at the very end, and didn't exactly see that much business. The wizened old man of Asian origin looked up over the counter, giving him a smile at he came in, examining the knives. 

If Clint knew anything, he knew his weapons. He was quite a judge of them, and especially of bows and knives. Throwing knives were something he had intimate knowledge of, and the ones up for sale here were some of the best he'd seen. Stainless steel, sleek and easily concealed. A beautiful set of five, but kinda boring just by themselves. 

“Hey,” he said, pointing to the set, “do you do engraving?” 

And he came out with the set, a striped tie engraved along the blade, and a beautiful monogrammed “PC” in the smooth handle. Two longer, more slender blades also made their way into his bag, engraved with a simple spider. 

After stowing Phil's gift in his own room, he took the elevator down to Tony's workshop, armed with the two larger blades and the high-heeled shoes. Typing his code into the workshop's door lock, he entered into a scene of utter chaos. 

“Dummy! No—no, do not--” 

Tony was cut off as there was the sound of a minor explosion, and then Tony was cursing, loud and mean. 

Clint waited patiently, until Tony finally turned to face him, covered with a red substance that looked like exploded vegetable guts. 

“Nice one, Tinker Toy,” said Clint with a grin and wiggle of his eyebrows. Dummy came up to him with a whir and chirp, and Clint rubbed at the bot's support strut with affection. 

“Screw you too, Barton,” muttered Tony, reaching for a rag to wipe off the innards of a tomato, “what do you need, I'm busy here...” 

Clint took a moment to look around the workshop. There were several, or a lot more than several, unfinished projects. Clint had no idea what Tony was working on, but he assumed that he would find out at some point, given that it was likely one of more pieces of tech could be for him. 

The archer did nothing more than hold up the high-heeled shoes and the pair of blades. 

“I want to turn these into stilettos. Literally. This you can do? For Nat?” 

“Of course I can,” muttered Tony as he went over to check the fabrication units, “just—leave them on the workbench...I'll...for that—thing--that's coming up right?” 

“It's called Christmas, Stark,” shot back Clint as Dummy bumped his head against his side, “ya know...holiday? Family, friends, that kinda thing? Gift exchange?” 

“Yeah, whatever,” said Tony, waving a dismissive hand, “gotcha, Barton...they'll be ready in time.” 

“You're a class act, Stark.”

“I love you too, Buttercup,” shot back Tony, flipping off Clint. 

Laughing, the archer went to wrap Phil's gift, returning the gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to Kisleth, who is on Ao3, for her input and help with Clint and Natasha. :)


	5. Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! Mea culpa! I meant to have these chapters up in a more timely fashion, but see...I work. Full time. I am a Nursing Assistant, and work has just been getting in the way of pretty much everything fun I want to do. I will try to make up for it and have the next chapter up this week too! m-_-m Thank you, everyone who is sticking with this and reading and leaving me comments. I love them. They make my day.

For a super-secret spy who worked for a super-secret organization, Natasha Romanov was more than well-versed into blending into a crowd when she chose. 

This was one of those times. 

Rather than the commercialized Mall, Natasha opted for recycled and fair-trade stores. Store that were quiet, small, and out of the way. 

She had learned a long time ago that these often had the best and most unique gifts. 

Handling the delicate items with care, Natasha adjusted the bags with her purchases for each of the team members. They had all been relatively easy to shop for; except Tony. What, after all, did you get someone who could have anything and everything he wanted? 

She thought the year-long subscription to that engineering magazine would drive him batty, but amuse him too. 

As she was shopping, Natasha's phone rang. 

“Hello?”

“Checking in, Agent,” said Phil with an amused tone. 

“Fine, Coulson,” she drawled, eyes widening as she approached a table in the store she hadn't seen yet. 

“Good. When you get back, Cap wants to have a meeting.”

“Right. Be back in—call it an hour to be safe,” she replied, and disconnected the call. 

“Say,” she asked, turning to the shop keeper, “Just what are these made out of anyway?” 

Later that evening, just before dinner (it was Phil's turn to cook, for once), Steve gathered everyone around, looking resolute. Tony of course knew this did not bode well for his penchant for hiding in the workshop with the bots. 

“I want to thank all of you, firstly,” he said, “for being so supportive and working so hard during Thanksgiving to help the food banks. But now, we have another request. Director Fury has been contacted by one of the local hospitals here in the City. There are a lot of children there who are sick and not likely to recover. We've been asked to put in an appearance next week, to cheer up the kids and try to make them feel better. But I thought we'd put it to a team vote, before I give them a yay or a nay.” 

Each of the Avengers looked around at the others, considering what Steve was proposing. Thor's hand was the first to go up. 

“Tiny Midgardians! I approve!” he said. 

“I guess we could,” said Bruce with a shy smile, putting up his hand in agreement. 

“Why not?” asked Clint, “I like the little tikes.” He didn't bother putting up his hand, but nodded from his slumped position. Coulson smacked his ankle, and he took his feet off the table. 

“You know that little children and I don't necessarily mix,” said Natasha, “But I suppose it's something to do.” 

“I'm required to go along,” said Phil, “just to be sure no one does any lasting damage.” 

Everyone looked at Tony. 

“No,” he mumbled, “Nay, no, niet, I'm not doing this, just--” 

Tony then made the very bad mistake of looking into Steve's disapproving face. He didn't look angry; Steve was rarely if ever actually angry at Tony. It was a keen disappointment that knew exactly where Tony's heartstrings were located and had no compunction whatever about pulling them. 

“I never had a say in this to begin with,” he mumbled, “and even if I did, there's the whole majority vote thing. Might as well put myself out of my misery.” He heaved a dramatic sigh. “Fine.”

“Thank you, Tony,” said Steve, his smile bright and so very, very gorgeous that Tony felt like the impending disaster with sick little children was all going to be worth it. 

“I demand cookies for being good,” he mumbled. 

“No, Tony,” said Steve, his ears turning slightly red, “you'll get better than cookies.” 

Clint laughed outright, while Tony flipped him off. The team began talking, always talking and smiling. Full of noise and light and life. 

Phil turned to glance at Natasha, whose shoulders were shaking, and a little musical sound making it clear she was laughing along with the team.


	6. Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and JARVIS do some online shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry! This posting has NOT turned out the way I wanted. At all. But I will find some way to have this done by Christmas....Sorry also that this chapter is so short.

Bruce Banner was beginning to have to fight off a certain panic. 

Christmas plans had already begun. Steve was making the final arrangements for their collective hospital visit, Clint has cryptically he was planning some evil and sinister for Tony. 

And he was also pretty sure that everyone else had gotten their presents. 

He wasn't entirely sure, but he knew that there were things he was not able to do safely. Gallivanting through the crowds in New York City was not one of them. The other guy did not and would not ever find that acceptable, and Bruce would make headlines for the wrong reasons again. 

His other dilemma was being able to shop for gifts for the Avengers. 

“Doctor Banner?” 

The crisp, calm and posh voice of JARVIS brought the scientist out of his reverie. He looked over at the nearest camera, out of politeness more than anything else. He was a little startled but even more confused. It was not often the AI was the initiator in their conversations, but Bruce liked Tony's AI. That was for sure. 

“Yes, JARVIS?” he asked. 

“I have noticed you appear to be slightly agitated and nervous. May I inquire as to what is the matter?” 

“Well, uh...actually, JARVIS, you might be able to help me,” he said with a wry smile, “I, well—I need to do my Christmas shopping.” 

“And naturally, such a crowd as you would encounter outside of the Tower walls would be more than a little hazardous,” said Jarvis with a gentle lilt, “you are of course aware I am able to place orders online?” 

“Oh? I thought you, uh, only did that for Tony.”

“No, Doctor Banner. I am fully able to assist you as well, if you wish. I have access to all the necessary information. I could even, perhaps, recommend some items.” 

“Yeah, JARVIS. That would be a life-saver.”

“I am pleased to be of assistance, Doctor Banner. Shall we begin by choosing one of your teammates?” 

Within forty-five minutes, Bruce had selected gifts for the majority of the team. However, all the sites he visited to find something for Natasha (weaponry of sorts) didn't yield anything. 

Before he remembered how pretty she looked in Calcutta, wearing the shawl and suddenly he had just the thing. 

The necklace was composed of bead-work from Tibet, and was not exactly cheap. But Bruce was happy to get this thing for Natasha. He often considered if she remembered that she was a lovely woman first, and a SHIELD agent second. And he hoped the gift would remind her.


	7. Interlude...

Dear Readers--  
I am afraid that I owe you all an apology. 

When first I started writing this fic, and even up until this weekend, I had every intention of having this work completed on Christmas Day. That is Tuesday. 

I am working on Chapter Seven, and I have the last two chapters to write. I was ready to write this weekend. But then, honestly, life came and kicked me in the proverbial teeth. Really hard. 

1\. I had the worst night ever at work on Friday evening. When I left, I was seriously questioning my choice of profession, and my competency as a Nursing Assistant. This is because I have BIG self-esteem issues, and I tend to beat myself up over things more than any other patient or supervisor could do to me. I am proud of my work, and I want to do a good job, and my patients to be happy. I was actually so upset that I cried in front of my supervisor, making myself quite sick in the process. 

2\. Friday evening, one of my best and dearest friends went Into the West...Beyond the Veil...in short, she is no longer with us. I was not aware of this until Saturday morning, when I texted her and was hoping she could bring me something for lunch. Her brother then called me several moments later and told me what had happened. 

While I am feeling reasonably better physically speaking, mentally I am not in any state to be writing. 

So, again, to all of you (what, I can count you on one hand?) darling people who are reading this story...thank you for putting up with my infrequent updates, the fluff, etc. I plan to have this work finished by Twelfth Night, or January 6th, before the Twelve Days of Christmas are officially over. 

Again--thank you for reading. This is your Author, Signing Off.

**Author's Note:**

> A special thanks to Lady Nyoko , for being kind enough to do a quick beta job for me. Also, to SciFiGrl47, who gave us Calcifer and Sophie.


End file.
